Death By Passion
by Z. Alexander
Summary: He wanted to feel, and he did. He wanted to know, and he did. But it all went wrong even though it all went right. AkuRoku.


POEMFIC? Yeah, I was like...wtf? This is actually something I wrote a long time ago, but I fixed a lot of the words to actually fit this situation and added bits between so it would be a story. Originally, it was a very long poem about a girl who fell in love with a beautiful image which only appeared beside a fire, and she ended up burning herself to death. Obviously, this is nothing like that, but most of the phrases here are taken from that. This is CANONVERSE again!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, or Disney. I don't even own my favorite shirt; I stole it from my mom and she hasn't noticed yet.

* * *

_A glimmer, like reflection of an ember in the mirror appears within the iris of your eye;_

_We watch as the spoils of the battle dance around us and tangle with each other in the sky._

_I never thought I'd understand the beauty that is pain, but I think it's getting easier to see;_

_I'm watching you watching the stars watching over us all, and I know it's only pain which sets us free._

--And the Heartless faded one by one. Roxas usually took care of most of them; it was, after all, his job. But he couldn't move from his spot just then, because his partner - Axel, VIII, the Flurry of Dancing Flames - was living up to his name spectacularly. Roxas had only known him for a month or so, and usually didn't think him special, but tonight...tonight, he was uncharacteristically beautiful.

It was something in his eyes Roxas had never paid attention to before; they sparked like his fire sparked, and he looked like the essence inside of him; wild, uncontrollable, _devastating._

Roxas didn't have the grace his partner had; he relied on strength and shape and his skill with his blades to get him through battle. When he dodged an enemy, he rolled and evaded. When _Axel _dodged, he twirled and _danced. _Roxas knew that seeing such an intricate elegance was a rare privilege, for a Nobody whose existence and survival relied on extermination, and he thought maybe if he could, he'd be grateful he was Axel's partner.

VIII faltered for a moment - something sharp had caught him through the shoulder - and before he could think, Roxas was inside the ring of Heartless, slicing decisively and without hesitation. It was the only kind of dance he knew; and it was nothing like beautiful, but it was quick and efficient.

After a moment, more fire was added to the decreasing numbers and soon nothing was left but a smoky haze, small fires dotting the ground and dark wisps twirling round bright hearts on their journeys to the heavens. Roxas watched as Axel gripped his shoulder in an irritated shamefulness, upset that he had sustained injury at all. Roxas had never before been hurt, but the pain on Axel's face made him look real.

_Human._

_Alive._

And if he was alive, then his wound would be agonizing. Roxas hurried to his side and pushed away the ripped cloth, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the jagged pink rip leading around and across the collarbone. A sick-looking crimson - dubbed in jest by IX 'the Blood that Never Was' - leaked out and down, and Roxas gave it a spontaneous lick without knowing why. It tasted like salt and metal and something intensely sweet he could only call darkness, and when he did it again the sensation sent shudders (of pain, Roxas thought) through Axel's body. He abruptly pulled away and drew out the Potion he'd meant to give to VIII all along, murmuring useless apologies to convey false guilt.

"It's...it's fine, XIII," Axel said, sounding very out of breath. "Don't say things you don't mean."

And Roxas could only hand over the Potion and reply, "Call me Roxas."

* * *

_A matter of just time is what you say when I inquire about the crimson river on your skin;_

_I never liked to sit and wait for things to come to me, so when you leave I take the knife and dig it in._

_I didn't quite expect you to return and when you do, the flicker once again comes to your eyes;_

_Your tongue, your teeth, your lips prepare to catch the falling red, and we revel in all our forbidden lies._

--Roxas wasn't better in battle in comparison to Axel; he did his job, and he never failed, but he was harsh and ungraceful. He always thought with forced amusement that even his Samurai were more graceful; and Axel, his partner, could do more than Roxas could. But while Roxas, after three months, had still never been hurt, Axel often sported jagged cuts and dripped sick blood onto the ground.

Roxas liked tending to him, and Axel seemed to like it as well; it didn't seem sanitary, but his partner especially liked him to lick away the lines of red. It always tasted as good as the first time, and he especially liked knowing that it was _he _who caused those shudders to run through Axel's body.

"Axel, I'm tired of tending to you all the time," he said, studying the lanky, black-clad form stretched on the bed in front of him.

"Why," the other boy asked. There was something beneath the tone, something more than just idle curiosity, but Axel didn't lift his head.

"You're always the only one hurt. I'm tired of not knowing what it..._feels _like." It was dangerous ground, and he knew it; but he didn't think it fair that Axel got to feel _whatever _that was, and he didn't.

Axel only laughed; it was a mocking sort of sound, grating on the ears. "It's only a matter of time before you mess up. Don't think about it, Roxas." He suddenly stood. "I have something to do, so I'll see you later."

And he left the room quite suddenly; Roxas found himself irrationally irritated. Irritation seemed to be one of the few things all Nobodies could feel without forcing themselves into it, and Roxas seemed to feel it more than most in the castle. He dug in his pocket for a standard utility knife most of the members of the Organization carried, and hefted himself onto his bed, frowning at the little bit of metal. If he tried, would that sickly blood spill out, or did it only come with battle?

It was worth a try.

He unzipped his coat and removed his gloves before stroking the skin of his stomach with the tip of the knife; there was more room there, after all, and he wanted to be able to see it. He held his breath throughout the first cut, and was disappointed when nothing came out. Again he tried, and again, and this time it was deep enough to send a river of red spilling out of his skin. A fiery sensation shot through his body, making him bite his tongue in order to stay quiet. He wasn't sure why, but this act seemed almost forbidden - if anyone found out, they'd make sure he didn't do it again.

He was too absorbed in dragging the blade over his skin to hear the clacking of footsteps by the blue door, but he heard Axel say, "Roxas? Are you still in here?" He fumbled with his cloak and threw the knife to the floor at the foot of the bed, but his movements were oddly sluggish and he didn't know why. He'd nearly got his coat back on when Axel appeared and stopped abruptly.

"What did you _do _to yourself, you idiot?"

Roxas looked up and smiled helplessly, too wrapped up in _feeling _to care about the strange look on his partner's face. "It feels," he said. "I feel. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Axel didn't respond verbally, but instead moved forward and touched their lips together. Roxas wasn't sure of the point of the exercise, but gloved fingertips scraped his cuts and the sensation was ecstasy. He moved his lips with Axel's, jolts of something not quite electric running through his body. He found himself pushed onto his own bed and Axel's lips moved from his to his collarbones, his chest, his stomach, and a rough tongue tracing the lines of red passion.

His eyes rolled without his consent and his body did things it had never done before; Roxas _hated _this loss of control, but he could forget that he wasn't alive because even if it was pain on his stomach and his lips when Axel bit down hard, it was still beautiful because he could _feel._

* * *

_You say that I am poison or a mind-corrupting drug, and common sense tells all that you should flee;_

_Tumbling out my mouth comes all the venom that I hold, and I frown when yet again you cling to me._

_I did not ever want the strange attention that you give - those soft, caressing touches now and then;_

_I wanted crimson rivers and the flicker in your eye, and perhaps a lap of tongue now and again._

--It was long past the first time he'd ever traced feeling on his skin, and Axel always sent waves of _I don't know but don't stop _through his body, but he kept secrets he had no right to and whispered things he couldn't possibly mean. Roxas had taken to keeping five feet between them at all times...because if he didn't, he wasn't sure he would be able to let go.

"What's your problem," Axel asked finally, after chasing Roxas through the entirety of Wonderland before following him back to the castle.

Roxas curled into himself in the corner of his bed, holding a pillow between his torso and thighs and avoiding Axel's steady gaze. "Just get away from me," he said firmly. "You're an idiot and you annoy me more than anyone else I've ever met."

Axel only laughed. "Get _away _from you? Roxas, you're like poison." He paused for a moment. "No, you're more like a drug. Poison just spreads through your body and kills you; a drug keeps pulling you back in, even _if _you want to get away. I don't, by the way. What's _your _deal?"

Roxas frowned angrily and finally met Axel's eyes. "You _are _my problem. You _are _my 'deal.' You are the biggest _idiot _I've ever seen, you don't know when to _quit, _and you always say we're best friends." He looked away again, strangely unable to hold Axel's stare for more than a few moments this time. "We can't be best friends, because I _hate _you."

Axel flopped on the bed next to him and grinned, looking up through his lashes. "Liar. You know, this is the _exact _reason I love you. You are the _biggest _faker I've ever met, and you really know how to make a guy feel special. Now, come here. I'm bored of chasing you around."

So Roxas let himself be pulled into the heat Axel always radiated, hating the awful gentleness Axel had recently taken on. He preferred their old intimate violence to this strange devotion of sorts, because this was a different feeling and it made him want things he couldn't possibly have.

When he left, so too would the feelings of passion, but at least he wouldn't _want _any more.

* * *

_Flash of silver, swish of black, and hints of red and green: the only things my eyes can understand;_

_You're watching me trying to watch the stars covered in smoke, and I still wonder why you hold my hand._

_A dancer I am not though I adore the way you glide, but in all things I simply cannot bend;_

_You love me now but soon I leave and you must hate me then - I cannot see you chase me till the end._

--They were on another mission; routine, routine, routine. Smoke drifted up and covered the sky, obscuring even the glowing hearts released from the darkness. Axel was dancing, as always, flitting through the crowd as if they weren't there at all. By now, Roxas was so practiced that he could go through this part of the mission with his eyes closed; but he didn't, because he still liked watching Axel move gracefully over the ground.

He would probably miss this, but he wouldn't give up on his goal. Axel, with his lies and pretense and false love, could not give him what he truly wanted - needed. He could give him passion, but not wholeness.

The area cleared completely, Axel wandered over to Roxas and took his hand. He always did that; it was a useless gesture, but Roxas let him do it anyway because maybe Axel would hate him more when he left. Axel _had _to know he was leaving; he was always closer than ever, as if his proximity might be enough to make Roxas stay. It wasn't.

"I'm leaving," he said suddenly. "I'm sure you know that by now."

"Yeah," Axel said, sounding uncharacteristically tired. "I know."

He tried to wriggle out of Axel's grasp. "Don't follow me."

Axel snorted and held tighter. "You say that like you have some _control _over me."

But he did, he _had _control; Axel had _admitted _he was like a drug. When he left, he would have to make sure Axel hated him enough to leave him alone, or at least kill him when ordered. And he would be, because out of anyone, Axel knew him best and would be able to track him down.

* * *

_You always were the one who never did what he was told, and I listen without ears to all your speech;_

_With eyes not quite my own I watch you dance away for good, and put yourself completely out of reach._

_Pathetically you speak and tell a fraction of the tale, and now there's only one thing to admire:_

_The blazing flames caressed your skin and cleared the path and now...you lie in peace, in pain, in death by fire._


End file.
